


To Wash All Cares Away

by woodelf



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22780801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodelf/pseuds/woodelf
Summary: Sequel to "Home". The post-Neverland reunion sex continues.
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	To Wash All Cares Away

Rumpelstiltskin woke from a light doze, stretched, and moved away from Belle carefully, trying not to wake her. He swung his legs out of bed and rose, walking into the bathroom naked, and relieved himself. Facing his reflection in the mirror, he took stock as he washed his hands. He looked…disheveled, to say the least. He raked a hand through his hair and considered further. He’d put on some weight lately, he knew, whether it was from the curse being broken and time moving forward again or the fact that it was much more of a pleasure to eat now that he had a beautiful dining companion across the table from him, he didn’t know. But while he felt that he’d earned a little middle-aged spread after three centuries, he’d have to watch it – he wanted to stay in shape, after all. He had a son and a grandson to keep up with now, besides Belle herself, although she didn’t seem to mind. As if his thought had conjured her, he saw her appear in the mirror behind him, padding into the room clad only in his shirt, half-unbuttoned and falling to mid-thigh and swallowing her hands in its sleeves.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologised.

“S’all right. Need a shower anyway.” She encircled his waist from behind, kissing the bare skin of his back and leaning just enough to the side so she could see them in the mirror.

“Look at you,” she said, appreciatively, dropping one hand lower to move in slow circles over his abdomen. “Look at us. I don’t ever want to be apart again.” She kissed his shoulder.

“Me neither, love.” Even though she never quite touched it, the pressure of her fingers moving oh-so-close to his flaccid cock caused the first stirrings of excitement, as though it wished to rise to meet her touch. “So, the shower then?” he prompted.

“Mm. Yes, definitely.” He immediately felt the loss of her hand as it left him but she brushed his hair to the side and pressed one last kiss to the nape of his neck before stepping back. “Get it started, will you, will I pin up my hair?" 

By the time Rumpel had the water at a comfortable temperature and turned back around, Belle had gathered her hair into a somewhat messy braid and was pinning it atop her head, loose tendrils escaping and framing her face. He swallowed hard as she unbuttoned the few buttons that she had done up, and let the garment slip off her body, to be folded neatly and placed atop the counter. His eyes hungrily took in the sight of her body as it was revealed again, from her creamy shoulders down to her breasts and taut belly and sex. His cock swelled a little more.

"After you,” he said graciously, extending his arm to let her by him.

“You just want to look at my butt,” she accused, stepping past and into the shower.

“You were looking at mine,” he retorted. “Seems fair.”

“So I was,” she said cheekily. She turned to face him under the pleasantly hot water.

“Well, then.” He joined her under the spray and slid the glass door closed behind him. In the back of his mind he took a moment to enjoy his ankle feeling secure beneath him for the first time on the slippery tile. He tilted his head back, letting the hot water stream over his hair and down his back.

“Want me to wash your hair?” Belle asked, already reaching for the shampoo.

“Yes,” he said simply, having learned she liked pampering him in such small ways as much as he liked pampering her. He pulled the small stool that fit neatly into the corner of the shower towards him and sat down with his back to the spray. No longer would he need it to accommodate his weak ankle, but it put a person at a perfect height to have their hair washed as well. Belle squeezed a dollop of shampoo out and began to massage it into his scalp, working it through his fine hair until it slid smoothly and silkily through her fingers. Rumpel made a soft contented noise, tilting his head back slightly into her touch. He’d never have guessed having his hair washed could feel so damn good. No wonder women liked getting their hair done at salons. Belle detached the shower head and used the warm spray to rinse out the suds, finally replacing it and gathering his long hair to squeeze out the excess water, leaving it lying sleek and dark against his skull. 

“Stay there a minute,” she instructed, and took up the bar of spice-scented soap to wash his neck and shoulders, seeking out and finding any tense muscles as her hands glided over his skin. First his head, and then his shoulders dropped, relaxing.

“Feels good,” he murmured contentedly.

“Good. Because it’s your turn to have someone take care of you,” she said matter-of-factly. “You can stand up now.”

He obeyed, pushing the stool back into its corner, enjoying the feel of the hot water beating on his shoulders, drinking in the sight of Belle’s wet, shining body, her make-up gone, her natural beauty all that he needed or wanted. 

She got more soap, and spread it out along his collarbone, and down over the swell of his chest, palms flat on his smooth skin, thumbs dragging up over his nipples, circling, circling, catching the stiffening nubs again, hearing his breath catch.

“Belle —” His cock thickened, filling and lifting between his legs.

“Hmm?” She was smiling, intent on her task, moving back up to his shoulders and down along his arms, sluicing the water over him to rinse him clean. It washed down over his belly, catching in the hair at the root of his cock, and running in rivulets off his rising erection. She picked the bar of soap back up, and ran if over his belly and lower in a slippery caress, hearing his breathing quicken. Returning it to its shelf, she moved partly behind him, chest pressed against his back, and splayed her hand over his abdomen, spreading the lather in circling, random patterns until he though he would go mad from her touch, now firm, now light and teasing, so close but never quite touching his by now fully-erect cock as it surged ever higher, water beading at the tip and dripping off. Arousal coiled in his gut.

“Touch me, _”_ He pleaded, circling her wrist with his hand and directing it to where he wanted it, groaning in relief as she wrapped her fingers around him with a huff of laughter against his shoulder and stroked his cock from root to tip, slow and sensuous, the soap cool against his heated skin.

“I thought I _was_ touching you,” she teased, stroking a few more times. And then she let him go. "I’m not done with the rest of you,“ she reminded him, and a frustrated groan escaped his throat as she moved on to wash his outer thighs and butt, then stepped back to lather his back, scrubbing with the washcloth. He leaned over slightly, bracing his hands on the wall, arching back into the rough caress with a grunt of pleasure. Belle scrubbed harder, working methodically down from his shoulders to the small of his back and over the swell of his ass. He widened his stance, spreading his legs in invitation, and groaned as he felt her soap-slick hands gather his balls, rolling and fondling them, a jolt of pleasure shooting straight to his cock. He wanted to push back, into her touch, and to push forward, to rub himself against the cool tiled wall, and settled for reaching down to stroke himself roughly.

"Unh-uh,” Belle chided. “Did I say you could touch yourself? I’m taking care of you tonight.”

“ _Belle_ ,” he growled, but he dropped his hand, letting her do with him as she willed. The cloth again, running down his legs and back up the insides of his thighs, then she detached the sprayer head again and he let his head fall forward as she directed the hot pulsing jets of water over his skin, rinsing the soap away, beating into his muscles in a way that made him never want to leave the luxuries of modern civilisation ever again. 

Belle ran her hand over his ass, . “Bend over,” she urged, and he knew what was coming, his balls twitching spasmodically even before he felt the stream of water play over them, making them swing between his legs. 

“Oh gods,” he panted, his hips thrusting into empty space, his cock bobbing stiff and aching before him. He was on the point of turning and pinning her against the wall to take her in one hard glorious thrust when the water moved down and over his legs, giving him a brief respite from the intense sensation. 

“All right, straighten up,” said Belle, turning him to face her with a hand on his shoulder, and looking him up and down appreciatively. “I do like the look of you, Rumpelstiltskin,” she murmured, wrapping her hand around his cock once more. This time her fingers didn’t quite meet around his shaft. She rubbed her thumb over the sculpted head.

“If you’re trying to torture me, sweetheart, you’re doing a good job,” he said, voice deeper than usual. sliding his hands restlessly over her shoulders and upper arms.

“Should I stop?” she asked mischievously.

“Gods, no.” He thrust forward into her fist, groaning as after a moment she pulled away, bringing the shower head up to play over his chest and belly, holding it close to his skin, his nipples tightening under the stinging sensation. 

“Could you come from this alone?” she mused, and his stomach muscles jumped as she brought the pulsing water to bear on his cock, and he whimpered. It was torment, and it was bliss, a wonderful way to tease himself into arousal, but he was already _there_ , and he needed _tight_ , and _fast_ , and _rough_. “Well?” She changed the angle of the water, hitting him from beneath, pulsing against his balls again, and he felt them tighten, draw up, his climax gathering in a tight knot of ecstasy waiting to be released.

“Yes!”

“Do you want to?” Something in his features told her otherwise, his eyes half-hooded and desperate.

“No, your hand – _please.”_

She replaced the shower head in its holder, and then her hand was on him, stroking hard and fast and sure.

He threw his head back. “Oh god, yes, like that, –”

She shifted position, adjusting her grip as she moved back to his side and slightly behind his shoulder, pumping him from the same direction as he would himself, alternately tugging his cock out and away from his body and up towards his belly, loving the smooth curving arc of it and watching the flushed, darkening head glide in and out of her fist, sweeping her thumb over it with every few strokes, squeezing, teasing, urging his climax to come boiling up out of him as he cried out, hips jerking as his seed jetted out of him in a long stream of white and spattered the tiled wall She milked every last drop out of him, until he felt the only thing holding him up was her left arm snug around his waist.

She didn’t let him go until she felt the tension wash out of him, his cock softening as he drew in a long, deep breath. Turning in her loosened hold, he smiled at her. “My turn now,” he said firmly, reaching for the rose-scented liquid soap she preferred.

“The hot water’s going to run out,” she warned..

“Just a quick wash, then, ” he promised. "I shall go mad if I don’t touch you.“

He didn’t linger, as she had, but she was already aroused, her clit tingling with sensation, and the deft, brushing caress of his hands moving intimately over her flesh was enough to start her inner walls clenching around nothingness. He paused to tease her nipples, still sensitive from their earlier lovemaking, and a pleading noise came from the back of her throat. "Hurry,” she urged, bucking against him.

He looked into her eyes, understanding what she needed, and quickly finished washing her and rinsed her off, backing her against the tiled wall as soon as he had. He swept one hand down the back of her thigh and caught it behind her knee, pulling her leg up. Promptly she wrapped it around his waist, opening herself up to him as his fingers found the moisture between her legs, slipperier than any soap, and went skidding over her swollen clit.

Her head fell back against the tile with an audible ‘thunk’. It was only a minute before she was digging her fingers into his shoulders, her eyes closing as she neared her peak, unable to quite keep her hips still. He slipped two fingers inside her, and leaned forward, mouthing at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“Take your pleasure, love,” her murmured, pressing his thumb against her but otherwise barely moving it, letting her set the pace . Belle rocked forward, chasing her orgasm, going still suddenly except for the clasping of her muscles around his fingers. He lifted his head to watch her face transform, her tense jaw relaxing after a minute as she drew in a long, sighing breath of satisfaction and let her leg drop, her blue eyes opening and a lazy smile curving her lips.

“Good?” he smiled back, withdrawing his hand and straightening up. 

“Mm. Most satisfactory.” She gave his wet hair a playful tug. At that moment they both felt the temperature of the water suddenly drop, and Rumpelstiltskin hastily slammed it off. 

“Time to get out, I think.” He fingered a curly tendril of her hair that had come loose at her temple. I’ll brush your hair out when we’ve dried off.“ 

"You’re lucky your hair doesn’t frizz in humidity,” she groused. 

“You _style_ your hair so it curls, sometimes,” he pointed out, baffled. “How is this different?”

“It is, just trust me.” She stepped out onto the thick bath mat and grabbed one of the soft, fluffy towels, beginning to dry off her arms and chest. Rumpelstiltskin grabbed his own, having learned that trying to dry each other off at the same time invariably meant a tangle of limbs and not much progress, and the bathroom had become suffocatingly steamy. He wiped a layer of steam off the mirror and cracked the window. 

“Do my back?” Belle asked, turning away from him. 

“Of course.” As he toweled her back dry, he glanced up and saw them framed in the cleared mirror. He grinned; he’d been rubbing the towel over his hair and the tousled strands were sticking up in all directions.

“Hey. Hey, look at us,” he said, repeating her words from earlier and directing her attention to the mirror. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin atop her head. “Do you think this is what a happy ending looks like?”

Belle looked at the damp, smiling couple in the mirror and laughed, reaching up to smooth some of his hair back down. "No,“ she said confidently. "This is what a happy beginning looks like.”


End file.
